


You Don't Scare Me

by joy_shines



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Gender/Sexuality, Enthusiastic Consent, Fighting/Struggling Kink, Gaila Lives, Light BDSM, Multi, Nonmonogamous Relationship, Patriarchy, Slut Shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-02
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 20:13:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/866150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joy_shines/pseuds/joy_shines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gaila thinks her desires are shameful, and blames herself for scaring off previous partners. Nyota will not let that bullshit narrative stand. Kirk and Bones would be happy to see to it that Gaila is *firmly* convinced that her desires and proclivities are just fine by them, thank you very much.</p><p>Set at the Academy, and in the weeks after the Narada incident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: nu!Trek is not mine. I just love it bunches.

The first time it happens, she handles it with aplomb. She's been fucking a rather beautiful third-year Engineering student in his dorm room, fucking him into the mattress. Everything is going beautifully - he's panting and begging and Gaila is admiring the way her green skin looks pressed up against his beautiful olive behind. The feeling starts innocently enough, like an orgasm building deep in the pit of her stomach, but it climbs and crests until it is looming over her, until the power is too much, too heavy, too sweet - and she screams. A high, keening wail that rises from her tailbone all the way through the crown of her head. The next moment, the Engineering student is pressed up against the wall, clutching his sheet and looking at her like she has turned into a particularly hungry sehlat. That first time, high on adrenaline and release, she pulls on her clothes (trembling just a bit, only a bit) and moves across the small room with long, solid strides.

"I thought you said you liked being fucked, really fucked" she says, turning on her heel as she reaches the door, "but I see I was mistaken."

All the way back to her dorm room, she is a flesh-made emerald - all unyielding sparkle. Once inside though, she begins to shake. Surely the boy was right to cower. Who screams like that during sex? Not someone who's enjoying it, surely. Not someone a pretty boy would want to fuck him, then. Only an animal, she's sure, would make a sound like that while mating. Humans don't scream like that, normal humans don't. Even...even Klingons don't wail like lost children - they grunt and groan and shout like proper sentient beings. She clutches her shoulders, rocking. That is how Nyota finds her, an hour later.

"I shouldn't have mocked him, Nyota. It wasn't his fault, after all - who wouldn't be scared? Of course he wanted to be fucked, just not by an animal in heat. I should apologize, yeah, that's what I should do, because really, wouldn't you have been scared too? I mean, I shouldn't have said that. I was out of line - what's wrong with me?" Nyota's voice cuts through the jumble of Gaila's thoughts.

"Fuck that, dear. So you screamed. Yeah, I might have been shocked - but did he even ask you if you were ok? If you were having a good time? If screaming had any significance for your species? Damn, did he do anything but shrink away from you? It's his right not to like screaming, ok, but it's not exactly a mark of maturity to cower in the corner when your partner does something unexpected."

By this time, Nyota is stroking her hair with one hand while the other rubs small circles into the pad of Gaila's left hand. As her breathing slows, Nyota pulls her into a firm hug, "Don't let him make you ashamed of who you are. Please, Gaila."

Gaila nods, and feels her conscience prick her for the lie.

After that night, there's the second-year who keeps trying to convince Gaila that really, they can stop anytime, while Gaila apologizes for weeping and assures her that no, no, she really wants to keep going - just because she's crying, it doesn't mean she wants to stop. And she really doesn't want to stop, though she feels terrible when she sees the look of pity and vague revulsion on the woman's face. There's the heartfelt apology for leaving nail prints in her lab partner's ass, the TA's bruised ego when she can't stop the laughter that wells up out of nowhere...and there are others.

Gaila has taken several courses in psychology, and knows that childhood issues can make themselves manifest in the area of sexuality. As an Orion, a heightened (by human standards) need for physical and sexual contact is just part of her makeup, but she's aware that even she isn't immune to sexual issues or addictions. She examines herself, her motivations, ruthlessly, determined to root out the deep-seated issue that causes her to sound like she's in pain when she's exquisitely happy. This results in several awkward nights of apologetic attempts at discussion with various befuddled partners, and still, she seems no closer to an answer. 

She makes a new rule: No casual sex...well, sex with new partners...when unhappy, frustrated, angry, or otherwise upset. Really, no sex with new people if she's feeling much of anything other than horny - even real happiness can preface one of her "episodes." It's a sensible rule, she thinks...until she realizes that between her studies and her anxieties, she hasn't had the time or desire to build long-term sexual relationships. Nor, she admits to herself, has there been anyone she'd trust enough to keep around. So she begins to push down the power, learning to ball her fists in the sheet, sinking her nails into her own palms (it's only a problem when they bleed); to force the scream back down, down into her stomach where it twists and stagnates, disconnecting her from the pleasure she used to feel. She figures out how to tighten her muscles so that she doesn't twitch and twist too abruptly, to smoothly change positions so that she's face down if she feels herself tearing up.

It works. Sure, her body is stiff and achy from the imposed stillness, and Nyota has commented on how high-strung and unhappy she seems, but at least she's controlled it. At least she isn't hurting people or making them uncomfortable. As sex loses its savor, she throws herself deeper into her work, only to find it harder and more tedious than it was when she was running from dates to tests. Somewhere in all this, she meets Jim Kirk.

And she does not have sex with him. Not even when his eyes glint at her over his whiskey, not even when he stuns her by saying goodbye in her home language. No, she does not have sex with Jim Kirk. She does not so much as kiss Jim Kirk's impossibly enticing mouth. Instead, she drinks with Kirk and studies (yes, really studies) with Kirk and goes dancing with Kirk. But she does not have sex with Jim Kirk. She wants him too much. Gaila likes all the people she sleeps with, and has no problem gently - or not-so-gently - turning down offers from besotted cadets, but she doesn't drink coffee and study warp theory with the people she sleeps with, and she certainly doesn't discuss classical Orion philosophy with them. There are millions of wonderful people in the world...but no one makes her laugh as often as Kirk does. No one has the same knack for making her feel so wholly beautiful without so much as hinting that they _really should_ sleep together.

For all these reasons, Gaila will not have sex with Kirk. If she slips and frightens a random cadet with her screaming or thrashing, it's no great loss. Embarrassment, yes, and even shame...but not grief. She knows, though, that if Kirk saw her wildness, saw her come all unhinged, he'd leave, frightened, like the others, and she cannot risk that. It's the same reason she never propositioned Nyota, back before she knew for sure that her roommate was only attracted to males. Gaila knows, too, that although she's just about perfected her control, she would not be able to maintain it with Kirk. He convinces her to relax, to kick back - he welcomes her laughter, even when she snorts at his bad jokes and her dancing, even when she breaks into a horrifically cheesy imitation of old Earth "disco." Worse, were she able to maintain control...she wouldn't want to.

"Gaila, why haven't we slept together?"

The words tumble out of his mouth, easy as "Would you pass the maple syrup?" or "What are you drinking tonight?" The strangest part is that it's just a question. That's all. Not the opening gambit of a seduction, not an expectation, just a question.

"I mean, we're both incredibly attracted to each other - or, at least, I'm attracted to you, and everything I pick up from you says you're attracted to me, but I could be wrong. Stranger things have happened."

Gaila's world contracts to Kirk's eyes and the tilt of his head as he regards her from across the table. She tries to suppress the rising panic, assuring herself that Kirk is her friend; he'll believe it if you just say you're not attracted, dammit, just say it...but she does not want to lie.

"No, Jim, um, you're not..." she toys with her napkin, twisting it in her lap, "wrong."

"Well, that's a relief." That smile. Oh.

I just...well...I don't think it's a good idea."

"Ok, hon. Personally, I think it's a fabulous idea. I was just wondering because it seems like we've got an awful nice setup here - consenting adults who love each others' company and aren't really jealous types. I just didn't want to miss out if you were waiting to be asked." His face contorts in momentary puzzlement. "Though now that I think about it, you really don't seem like the type who'd wait to be asked." And, seamlessly, they move back into quizzing each other for the exam tomorrow.

Gaila abstains for a full week after that conversation, only partially because she doesn't trust herself not to lose control. Seven nights in, Nyota is spooning her, giving her the physical contact she craves, but it's still not enough. Behind her, Nyota's brow wrinkles.

"You have got to tell me - or someone - what's up with you lately. You've been wound up tight for weeks now, and you've cried your eyes out for the past three nights. If I didn't know better, I'd think you had it bad for someone unattainable." Gaila snuffles affirmatively.

"Oh, c'mon! Gaila, who gets what - and whom - she wants? You, who could have just about any cadet - or professor, let's be honest - kissing your boots? Who's out of _your_ reach?" This provokes a despairing wail from Gaila as she contracts even tighter, trying to make herself as small as possible.

"Jim Kirk, ok?" Nyota's mouth opens, but Gaila springs up into a sitting position, staring at her roommate from behind her red curls,  "And before you even say it, yeah he wants me I want him but, but, but, I just can't it just wouldn't...gods, Nyota, I can't lose him! It'd be...it'd be like losing you."

"Gaila, sweetie, I'm not going anywhere...you know that, right?"

"Yeeah, but I don't sleep with you."

"...clearly, because I'm straight." Gaila chuckles, but it turns into a sob.

"But I wouldn't sleep with you anyway, I couldn't..."

"Gaila, I always kind of assumed that if I liked girls, we'd sleep together when we had a mind to and be the great roommates we are the rest of the time. It's fine if that's not the case...but I always thought you were attracted to me."

"I...it's not..." Gaila sighs, trying to breathe deeply, "It's not that I wouldn't want to. It's just that...if I did, you'd get scared, like the rest of them. Oh, Nyota, if you knew the things I've found myself doing during sex, you'd understand. I...I lose control, sometimes, and I scare the other person...and I couldn't bear for you or Jim to see me that way. You'd run too, if you saw me like that." Nyota's eyes have been narrowing, her lips pressed together like they do when she's an inch away from putting some cadet in his place.

"If I knew who that first cadet to make you feel like this was, I'd find him and show _him_ what screaming really sounds like. Hmph."

Gaila tries to make Nyota understand the gravity of her situation, that she can't possibly be "normal," by any human definitions, but Nyota's really not having it.

"Gaila, honey, you are not human. Your sexuality does not have to conform to human practices and customs surrounding sexuality - which, by the way, are wide and far-ranging, even if you'd had the terrible luck of finding a handful of the most sheltered cadets in the Acadamy. From what you're telling me, you're not hurting anyone..."

"Um, what about the time I gnawed on that med student's shoulder? She squealed like it hurt pretty badly..."

"Well, you're not causing permanent damage. Anyway, please, please do yourself a favor and sleep with Jim. Talk to him first, if it makes you feel better - the boy _is_ sharp, when he wants to be - but I seriously doubt that anything you do will phase Jim My-Sexual-Tastes-Span-The-Galaxy Kirk. Also, it's really clear that you love each other, and when Jim puts that kind of effort into a relationship, he's not gonna run away because you get a little noisy."

Gaila glares at Nyota and thinks that Vulcan professor of hers must be rubbing off on her. The next day, though, she shyly invites Jim out for martinis at a quietly posh place near campus.


	2. Flashing Red and Green

Gaila growls into Jim's face, snarling with joy as she rides him. Her hands press down on his shoulders as her thighs grip his hips. She ripples her muscles around him, relishing the way his face contorts in bliss, watching it settle back into a slightly more serene delight as she resumes a steady rhythm. Somewhere, far in the back of her mind, the control that Gaila has worked so hard to build is throwing up its hands in horror at her display of unbridled passion, of primal lust. Somewhere, almost undetectably, it cringes with every growl, every grunt that passes her lips. But Jim's glowing eyes and encouraging hands keep it far enough away that, for the moment, Gaila isn't even aware that it exists.

It didn't happen in a night, this passionate, powerful dance. They went out for martinis, but Gaila found herself blushing the color of a pine tree and toying with her olives, her words reluctant and clumsy. Jim, ever the smooth one, ever the cleverly courteous rouge, suggests that they go somewhere quieter. When they've found a deserted corner of the library – no cadet is browsing the ancient Earth fiction at _this_ hour on a Friday night – he settles into a corner of an old, overstuffed sofa, his body language inviting. Without thinking, Gaila curls up against him, her back to his chest.

"Now, why don't you tell me what got you all flustered back there.”

Slowly, slowly, stumbling and gesturing, Gaila explains. Jim listens, arms around her shoulders in that strip of 'safe' space between her neck and her breasts. His embrace tightens when she describes her shame, the embarrassment she feels at her 'animalistic' appetites, and how she's tried so hard to control them, to be a 'normal girl.' He knows, as well as she does, the stereotypes about Orions – not just the Eager Orion Girl, who's always hot, horny, and up for fulfilling your wildest fantasy, but the Bestial Orion, whose desires make her base, disgusting, and even dangerous. She knows that he knows the long history of atrocities and exploitation that tinges her heritage, that propagates and enforces the stereotypes.

When she pauses, at a loss for where to go from this confession, he speaks, slowly, deliberately, “I suppose you've already told your roommate about this, huh?”

"Yeah...I did a lot of crying the past few days, and she asked.”

"Mm. So I suppose I don't need to tell you how glad I'd be get at the first cadet who made you feel this way. Or that it sucks that you feel you need to conform to some 'human' standard of 'normal.'”

"No. She made it really clear. Our talk is actually why we're having this conversation...she basically used logic to prove to me that we're actually perfect for each other and I owe it to myself to sleep with you and other such nonsense.

”What?! Uhura said _that_? About me? Are you sure it wasn't some other charmingly cocky, oversexed cadet? Perhaps one who knows her first name?” As Gaila chuckles, she notices that some of the tension that has been her ubiquitous companion for the past few weeks has faded away.

"No, she was pretty clear. Though she may not have put it quite so...bluntly as I did, that _was_ the upshot of what she said.”

"Neat. The real question, though, is what _you_ think about it. I mean, I definitely agree with your roommate – after all, who am I to question Uhura? But just because we think it's a great idea doesn't mean you have to. I'm not a magician, Gaila. I can't wave my...erm...wand...and disappear all your fears and worries. To misquote my roommate, I'm not a doctor, dammit – I can't heal you. All I can do is promise to be there while you work out your own salvation.” He pauses, considering, “Come to think of it, I'm pretty screwed up too. Maybe we can just work out our own salvations together. Or our damnation, as the case might be.” Gaila can't see his face, but she laughs at the knowledge that his eyebrows are waggling wildly.

"I don't know, Jim...I want you, but I don't know how long it will take for me to be able to, um, be with you...”

"You're with me now. This is good. This is great, actually. You know that in addition to being a school-renowned slut, I'm also a galaxy-class cuddler?"

”Yeah, but as you so accurately pointed out, we're both sexual beings. I mean...you're going to want sex sooner or later...”

"Do you mind if I sleep with other people? If so, we can talk about it, work something out...but I do kinda have this thing with Bones that I'd really love to keep going.” Gaila makes a sound not unlike that of a surprised mouse and whirls around to face Jim.

"You. And. Bones. You sleep together? I thought he barely tolerated you, from the way you bicker!”

"Ever seen an old, married human couple? That's just how Bones lets me know he cares. For him, comments on the amount of sexually-transmitted diseases I must have picked up equals 'I love you.'” Jim shrugs. “It's weird, but it works for us.”

"Yeah, I'd love to see the two of you working it...um...er.” Gaila's blush deepens even further, and Jim's smirk threatens to split his face.

"So, um, I take it you _don't_ have a problem with me continuing to sleep with Bones.”

"Nope, um, no problems here...full speed ahead, even! And, really, as long as you don't give me any of those rumored diseases, I don't really have a problem with you sleeping with other folks. I guess I just assumed that...well, most humans in serious relationships seem to be monogamous. Um. Not that I'm assuming we'll be serious...or anything.” Jim runs his hands through her curls, laughing.

"Gorgeous, I already told you that I'm not going anywhere. I'm already serious about you – spending time with you, learning about you. Now, we've just opened up the possibility of being serious about fucking too!” Gaila squirms against Jim's shoulder, nose pressed into his neck. Her head is spinning with joy, and she holds on to Jim's neck to ground her. His hands are still in her hair, stroking. Panting with the closeness and desire, Gaila manages, “I think I'd like to try a kiss.”

"Kiss me, then,” he says, warm and lazy, “Take what you want.”

Gaila wants to rush, to pounce, to devour him all in this one brilliant moment...but she forces her trembling hands to cup his face, slowly, savoring each touch, each glint in his eyes. And then it is too much, and her hands are pulling his mouth against hers, her agile tongue exploring his lips, his mouth. She nips feverishly at those full lips, reveling in their softness, the way they yield. Then, oh, then, he kisses her back, and the dance begins.

The next three days are filled with heated negotiation. Bones is away, visiting his daughter in Georgia, so Jim and Gaila spare Uhura and use Jim's room. Jim teaches Gaila an _interesting_ version of “Red Light, Green Light” to explore the use of safewords. Gaila learns that tickling makes Jim 'red,' while slapping his ass is all 'green.' Jim calls 'yellow' when Gaila starts weeping in the middle of a heated make-out session, then dives right back in after she explains that she doesn't understand either, but really, really wants to keep going. They talk about it later, and Gaila realizes that her tears are just another way of releasing tension, of dealing with intense feeling. The next time it happens, Jim just slides his hand into the tangle of curls on Gaila's neck and _pulls_. After her scream dies away, she wrenches away from Jim, lit up from the inside, and proceeds to lay into his shoulder with her teeth as he groans and slides his fingers between her thighs. In a moment, they've reversed again, and Gaila is invoking all the Orion deities she knows, and all the human ones she remembers. And so they dance: exploring, clutching, writhing, tasting. For three gorgeous days, they dance – classes are a blur; eating may or may not have happened; sleep occurs only when exhaustion sets in...and then Bones comes home.


	3. The Food of Love

“Good Christ, Jim! Fucking leave a sock on the door or something!”

As Jim looks up from between Gaila's thighs to see his roommate peering into their room, eyes wide with shock, Gaila feels herself contracting, turning in on herself. The hard-won, hard-lost control that's been so absent these past few days is back with a vengeance, and she's frantically trying to find the words, the right apology to make to Bones, because even if Jim Kirk understands and loves – yes, dammit, loves – her as she is, Bones is different, Bones is a gentleman, albeit a spiky one. He'll think...well, Gaila doesn't really want to consider about what Bones might think about her, but it can't be good...

“Hey, babe, you ok?” Jim's hand runs over her curls, just comforting, gentle. “Don't let Bonesy here scare you – this damn sure isn't the first time one of us has caught the other in the middle of something.”

Gaila breathes deep, and tries to stop her shaking. Bones sleeps with Jim, she reminds herself, Bones sleeps with Jim, who loves her as she is, in all her wildness. Bones sleeps with wild Jim Kirk, and thus must not mind some uncontrolled passion. The bed sags as Bones sits down.

“What's wrong, honey? Look, I didn't mean to ruin the moment – usually when I berate him, this one just keeps right on going, with that smug grin of his. I'm sorry I upset you – I can leave if it makes you more comfortable.” Turning to his roommate, the good doctor continues, “And Jim, you really should learn to leave me a note or a message or something if you're with a partner who values her privacy. Not everyone likes putting on a goddamn show, you know.”

“I...just...I...well, Gaila said she might not mind seeing us in...action, as it were, so I guess I thought she wouldn't mind being seen, but that was kinda...”

“Thoughtless, yeah, jackass. Gaila, honey, do you want me to leave?”

“No, this is your room...you shouldn't have to leave...”

“Hon, I asked if you wanted me to leave. You're not putting me out if you say yes.”

“No, I just don't want you to think...to think that I...um...” Gaila feels the pressure of tears behind her eyes as she threatens to come undone in front of a man she respects and likes deeply, a man she wanted to make a good impression on, the man who is her partner's partner.

“Jim, what the hell did you tell her that she's this afraid of me? Didn't you mention the part about how I'm all bluster and no bite...unless asked in a sufficiently convincing manner?”

“No! No, it's not that, it's just me...I'm just so...um...so...” Gaila's voice dwindles, realizing the truth of the situation, “ashamed.” And then the deluge, all the shoulds and shouldn'ts are battling it out in Gaila's head and the only thing to do is wail. Then Jim's arms are warm around her, his chest pressed to her back, rocking her gently. From somewhere behind Jim, she hears Bones whispering comfort, interspersed with curses directed at Jim, who is explaining the circumstances behind Gaila's reaction, and every cadet who ever so much as looked askance at Gaila.

As her sniffling quiets, Jim leans his chin on her shoulder, “Hey, babe, I can't remember if we've eaten today. What say we go find a quiet little bistro, the two of us, and have some food? We'll leave Mr. Curmudgeonly here to get unpacked.” Gaila breathes deep, and senses a rumbling in her stomach – food would be good. She nods.

“Yes, that'd be great...but...” she turns to face Bones, “could we talk when I'm more coherent? I know Jim explained, but I'd really like to talk more. Um. If you're not busy tonight.”

“Nope. And I'd make time for you, even if I was. Anyone who makes Jim act like both a kid at Christmas and a full-grown human is someone I want to know too.” Gaila feels her flush rising. He wants to know her. He saw her cry, saw her break, and he still wants to know who she is, what makes her tick. He didn't turn away.

Bones discretely excuses himself to “the john” while Gaila and Jim pull their bedraggled clothes back on. As they walk out of the dorm, Jim insists to Gaila that Italian is the best comfort food known to sentient beings, so they simply must go have red wine and manicotti. Gaila ends up with Pollo Caprese and a delicious pinot grigio, but she concedes Jim's point. The food is spectacular – a delight in its own right, but also doing wonders for helping her calm down and center herself. Realizing how much better she feels now, Gaila muses that low blood sugar and racing hormones are probably not the best combination for emotional stability. She mentions this to Jim.

“I guess that just means I'll be sure to keep you well-fed, as well as well...um...” Gaila nearly loses a mouthful of her wine.

“Jim! You're incorrigible!”

“And...you love it?”

“Yeah...”

“...and, c'mon, you were thinking it too.”

"Ok, maybe. Only because it seemed like something you'd say.”

“Uh-huh. So. Feeling better?”

“Tons. I've gotta admit, even embarrassing myself like that in front of Bones seems a little less dire with a belly full of pasta.” Jim sighs, looking meaningfully at Gaila.

“Yeah, Jim, I know – Bones is your lover – non-exclusive lover, even! - so he must be used to your wild antics. But he's also, in his native parlance, a Southern fucking gentleman! On whom I wanted to make a good impression! And that whole curl-up-and-die reaction was not really what I'd call a stellar view of my character!”

“Look, you haven't spent near as much time with Bones as you've spent with me, but believe me, he's heard about you. He knows that you didn't need any help dealing with that fourth-year who harassed you last month at the pub. He knows that you think pomegranate juice is the best intoxicant Earth has to offer and can't believe we'd even consider scotch to be a viable beverage – you two will have words about that, by the way. He knows that you're going to be one hell of an engineer, and probably going to figure out how to finally get us past warp seven without the ship shaking. He knows...”

“Ok, Jim, so you've talked about me to your roommate. Still, my display doesn't exactly lend credence to your talk about my competence and awesomeness.” Gaila sighs. “Look, I know in here,” she taps her head “that Bones didn't think badly of me. But...”

“Old habits die hard?” Gaila nods, relieved.

“Yeah. But we'll defeat them yet.” His charming grin. Gods, Gaila thinks, this boy...this boy will be the death of me.

“So, they have this absolutely amazing cannoli, and I just happen to know a certain grumpy med student who has a soft spot for it...”

Later, they're all cozy on the couch, sipping the sweet dessert wine and nibbling at the last bit of the cannoli. Gaila's leaning against Jim, waving her wine glass in Bones's direction to emphasize her argument that scotch – and grain-based alcohol in general – are abominations and not fit for any sentient being to imbibe. Someone yawns, and Gaila realizes that it must be getting late. She begins to scramble up, making her apologies for staying too late and trying to ignore the feeling of disappointment starting in her stomach.

“You're certainly welcome to go home, m'dear, but I think we'd both be honored for you to stay, if you'd like. I can make myself quite comfortable on our couch, so you and Jim can have the bed there. I don't know if Jim's mentioned that I make excellent pancakes...”

“With the help of a replicator...”

“Dammit, Jim, where the hell do you expect me to find real, pork bacon in San Francisco? Anyway. Would you like to stay? Or shall one of us walk you home?”

Without thinking, Gaila throws her arms around Bones and squeezes.

"I'd love to! Thank you! I, um, didn't really want to go home anyway, but I didn't want to be in the way either, and you don't really know me yet...”

“You can ask Jim – I wouldn't offer if it wasn't ok.” Gaila notices that the older man's body is very warm against hers, and his arms are around her too. He doesn't seem to be going anywhere, just looking at her with his soft, dark eyes.

“You two should really just kiss already. This whole staring-into-each-other's-eyes thing is very Shakespearean and all, but kissing would be even hotter...I mean, better. Better for everyone, really.” They both whirl around,

“Jim!”

“What? You both totally want to. I think. Don't you?” Gaila peeks at Bones, who looks adorable when he's exasperated with his lover.

“Yeah, I do...I just didn't want to be forward.”

“Honey, you can be as forward as you like. I wouldn't be with this one here” jerking his thumb towards Jim, who is now wearing a face-splitting grin, “if I didn't like forward.”

“Well, then,” and Gaila leans in for a quick kiss, she thinks, just an experimental kiss, but Bones's hands are warm, strong on the sides of her face, and his teeth are nipping at her lips, and she only pulls away when she needs to catch her breath.

“Um...do you _have_ to sleep on the couch tonight?"


	4. Show Me Your Teeth

Gaila snarls, biting into Jim's shoulder and struggling against the firm grip Bones has on her wrists.

“Which is it tonight, darlin'? Do you need to win or lose?”

At first, Gaila  **always** wanted to win.

After the three of them figured out, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that they were all emphatically into each other – separately and together and sometimes with other people – Bones and Jim had started _Project: Explore Gaila's Kinks_. When she protested that it wasn't supposed to be all about her, and really, this is her work, boys, not their responsibility, they countered that they'd had a goodly long time to explore each others' likes and dislikes, but they don't know hers yet. Besides, as Jim pointed out, it wasn't like they wouldn't enjoy the whole process. A lot. So Gaila learned a lot about what she liked and what she didn't, and, in the process, what her partners liked and didn't, and it really was incredibly fun. The really surprising thing, though, happened one day when she and Jim were making out in bed while Bones was out at the clinic.

They were a tangle of legs and arms and lips, her hands relishing the planes of Jim's back; one of his hands in her curls, pulling just a bit at the base of her neck. Then he pulls a little harder, just like she likes, but she finds herself struggling, twisting and pushing at Jim.

“Red!” Jim calls, moving away from her.

“Jim...what did I...oh, fuck, um...” In her head, Gaila understands that Jim is moving away from her because that's what her body language was telling him to do. But, she keeps thinking, but how can I fight you when you're way over there? How can I pin you down and mark you if you won't let me touch you? Don't be afraid, beautiful boy, I just want to devour you! Her hands itch for his shoulders, his chest, some nice flat surface to claw. She forces herself to breathe.

“Jim, I don't want to stop. I...I want...” He waits, patient as Jim Kirk ever is, for her to find her own words. “I want to fight. I want you to fight back.” A grin cracks Jim's concerned expression.

“Ok, hon. We can do that. I mean, we can totally do that. Just one question...”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to win or lose?”

Eyes blazing, Gaila pounces on him, pinning him to the bed with a move she just learned in advanced hand-to-hand, “I want to _win_ ,” she hisses.

The next time it happens, a week or so later, she finds herself wrestling with both boys. It ends with Bones in handcuffs and Jim tugging against his rope bindings. She's grateful that Bones isn't attached to a fixed point so that she can direct him to fuck Jim's pretty ass while she sits back and watches a job well done. Sometimes, she works with Jim to subdue Bones. Sometimes, she and Bones put their effort into taming Jim, and sometimes she bests the both of them. It's so good for her to fight, to fight and feel effective, to fight and win, to fight against her lovers and feel them fighting back, feel their strength and her strength. To feel them engaging with her, unafraid of her power. It's so good, and she never has to think when they ask “Do you want to win or lose?” Gaila knows: she's always in it to win.

Then the world ends.

For weeks after the Narada disappears into the singularity, all Gaila wants is the most gentle, loving, connection-filled sex she can get, interspersed with as many cuddles as they can cram into one day. The three of them spend hours in Bones and Jim's quarters, wiling away the time until their return to the Enterprise. Gaila holds Jim's face, whispering endearments and urging him to let go, just let go, as Bones carefully, precisely applies the cane to his ass. She weeps, not sobs, but simply weeps, at the feeling of Jim and Bones both deep inside her, so close, all three of them, so close to each other. This is all she wants, she thinks, if she can just keep this, she'll be happy. They are alive, she reminds herself, they are alive and together, and that is enough.

One day, though, Bones is on top of her, stroking her face and kissing her neck, when she finds herself pushing him, pushing against him. He sits back for a moment, surprised – it's been awhile since they did this.

“You want a fight, darlin'?” Gaila nods, pushing back against him.

“Okay,” he says, grasping her wrists as she writhes, “do you want to win or lose?” Gaila's breath catches in her chest as the question hits her. What good is winning, now? What does it mean to win, now after all this? Winning is near genocide; winning is comrades never coming home; winning is too much responsibility, too fast, even for these brilliant and beautiful people she calls her friends. Winning is meaningless, if this is what it brings.

“I...I want to lose.” Gaila looks Bones in the eye. “I want to fight, and I want to lose. I want you to be strong enough for all my fighting, all my struggling...and I want it to still be ok, everything to still be alright, after I lose.” But it's not alright, Gaila knows, and as she hears her words and realizes what she's asking, the fight goes out of her, leaving only grief. She pulls Bones to her, crying into his chest.

“I know, I know, honey. Winning don't feel so grand anymore, does it?” He's got her pulled tight against him, nose brushing the side of her ear, “We won, but we still lost.” Gaila feels dampness on her ear and brings one hand up to her lover's face. It comes away wet.

“But, that don't mean that we get to quit fighting.” His hands cup her face, tilting it upwards to meet his gaze. “Gaila, honey, I need you to keep fighting. I need you to be strong for me, for Jim, and we need to be strong for you, for each other. I need you to be fierce, pretty girl, and I need you to let me be a mean old man, sometimes. And yes, Jim and I, you can fight us all you want – we'll still be there when you're through. You don't scare us, lady,” he tweaks her nipples, briefly but sharply, jolting Gaila out of her head, into her body, “you don't scare me, honey. So show me your teeth.”


End file.
